Unstable Solutions
by ladypeter
Summary: CrackFic. Luke is feeling left out in the cold by Leia and Han's intense bond, so he decides to do some exploring through the Force. But his link with Leia is harder to control than he'd anticipated, and things begin to get out of hand.
1. Chapter 1

Luke swore to himself again and again that he didn't have a problem with it. Han and Leia falling in love was a wonderful thing, and he was happy for them-it just took some getting used to. Or maybe a lot of getting used to. First, after Bespin there was the realization that Leia hadn't lost a friend to the carbon freeze, but a lover. That was a shock, but he'd come to accept it in the months before Endor. But before Han's rescue, his and Leia's relationship was more an intellectual concept than a stark reality.

He'd realized that as soon as he and Leia landed on the tiny skiff above the dunes of Tattoine. As soon as Leia's feet hit the deck she'd run to Han and thrown her arms around him. Han's expression before he lowered his face to kiss her was like nothing Luke had ever seen before in him. Not a touch of sardonic wit, not a hint of sarcasm: just the look of a man who was very in love with a woman he hadn't seen in a very long time, delighted to feel her leaping into his arms. As happy as Luke was in this moment of triumph, when he looked around and saw the knowing smiles on Lando's and Chewie's faces, he thought, _isn't this weird to anyone else_?

In the days since then, Leia and Han's status as a couple started to feel normal, but there were times when Luke felt left behind, out in the cold while Han and Leia basked in their reunited bliss. He didn't begrudge them, really. But at those times their love felt abrasive, like a constant irritant, and not just in the realm of the senses, but in the Force as well.

The first time he felt something unique from Han and Leia in the Force was the day he watched them walk across the Home One hangar arm in arm. He and Han had been shooting the breeze, arguing about the best levels for booster optimization in atmo, when Leia came over to ask Luke about a reconnaissance mission. Business being over, his two friends (or rather his friend and his sister) headed off to "get a bite to eat." He'd felt enough of that vibe to refrain from mentioning that he was hungry, too.

Then they walked away, Han bent over to bring his head close to Leia's, her arm reaching around his waist. They were turned toward each other, completely in their own orbit. As strange as it felt, it looked utterly natural; the impression he got through the force was of an integrated unit, perfectly spherical and pulsing with a quiet but undeniable energy.

Something that right shouldn't be making him uncomfortable, but it did just the same. Luke would have defended himself up and down to anyone in the system that he wasn't jealous of Han for "getting the girl." In fact, he was just as jealous of Leia as he was of Han, and he was jealous because his two friends shared something that shut him out completely, leaving him on the outside looking in. But then, it didn't. It didn't shut him out completely. And that turned out to be the biggest problem of all. Because he'd begun to feel a burning curiosity: he'd never sensed something like this in his experience of the Force. He'd felt an energy between couples, but not like this. In an effort to understand, he found himself gently probing their bond.

He'd been so damned curious, hadn't he? So frustrated with his own ignorance, like a kid (like himself) taking apart a droid to see what made it run. But it was the role of a Jedi to understand all aspects of life, wasn't it? So he'd begun to consciously attune himself to that energy. His connection with Leia grew every day, yet neither of them really had any clue as to how it worked or how to approach it. Didn't he owe it to all of them to explore its manifestations? But having been established, Luke's attention was harder to control than he'd anticipated. The emotional link between him and Leia became nearly impossible to close.

At first, there were just vague sensations, things that were only the barest step beyond what careful observation could tell him. For instance, the sense of how their faces would meet when they kissed. He knew now which way Han and Leia each tilted their heads when they kissed, and then almost without trying, he knew which of them tended to open their lips first (Leia). He watched them hold hands, he knew what those hands looked like clasped together, but then suddenly he also knew who took the other's hand more often (Han), and who held on the tightest (Han again). Since Luke felt that these impressions were offering insight into how humans loved, he figured it was okay, especially since it was such little things, really-he didn't need to worry about it.

But then things began to escalate. One day during a discussion outside a briefing room of H1, the conversation turned into a contentious debate, and Han moved closer to Leia's side and put his hand on her back, a gesture that was becoming familiar to Luke. Leia didn't acknowledge it other than to step a hair closer to Han. In an instant their individual presences in the Force transformed into the glowing sphere of their combined energies.

When Luke saw Han's protective stance, saw Leia ease into it and accept his bolstering presence, an impression, a series of images and feelings and scents burst into Luke's head. Last night they had lain on their sides, Han curled around Leia from behind like a seashell (Luke had seen a holo once in school). He surrounded her, pushing into her at a steady andante pace at one end of the curve, and burying his face in her hair at the other. He murmured something in Leia's ear and she answered with a nod and a little hum. Her head rested on his bicep, and she held his forearm curled to her lips, where she nearly suckled his warm skin. Han's other hand was buried between her thighs, and what he was doing with his fingers there was as clear to Luke as the shape of their bodies curled together, or the colors of their hair mingled on the pillow. He perceived all this in the time it took to draw one breath.

Luke actually staggered where he stood, drawing looks from the company around him, including Leia and Han, peering out at him from their sphere, the one they thought only had room for them.

You might think that that experience taught Luke a lesson, showed him that it was time to back off, strengthen the walls around his consciousness. Probably he should also have spoken to Leia, diplomatically indicated that her sex life was becoming a bit of a problem for him, and could they work on increasing the mental boundary between them. But Luke was beginning to realize just what a stubborn son of a bantha he was, and what's more he was even more curious than before. He wanted to know how it all worked-not just Han and Leia's sexual bond, but the awareness of it that was growing in him. And maybe, if he was being really honest, that one taste of pleasure, of connection, wasn't enough. So although he didn't exactly pursue more encounters like that, he didn't exactly avoid them either.

And that's when things really started to get out of hand.


	2. Chapter 2

As the days went on and Luke felt his Force connection with Leia growing, he reassured himself that he had everything completely under control. But he vacillated between pursuing this connection and running away from it. Should he continue to engage in his exploration, or should he try to fight it? He was learning something, he was sure of it-gaining insight into human connection and bonding of a kind he'd never experienced, and likely wouldn't if he followed the Jedi path.

And for all he knew, this was how the Jedi learned of such things. If it was necessary for them to understand all human life, but they themselves didn't engage in passionate relationships, how else could they gain that knowledge? On top of that, what Han and Leia didn't know couldn't hurt them.

But if they ever did find out...he would lose them both forever, he was sure of it. And he'd surely die of shame in any case. But was it really all his fault? After all, weren't Leia and Han the ones who'd insisted on changing everything: falling in love, getting tragically separated, and then, upon reuniting, elevating each other to the importance of sun, moon and stars? Loving each other so completely that in his eyes, they fairly glowed with it? How could he be the one responsible?

In fact, it felt to him as if he was the one being violated. When it was so barely under his control, how could he be at fault? Then again, how could it be their fault when they seemed so oblivious to it? Every time that Luke felt sure they must notice his presence within their sphere, they ended up showing complete ignorance. He'd thought Leia so strong in the Force, too. Had he been wrong about that? Or was she so focused on Han, on the pleasure they shared, that she was blind to something she'd usually perceive? He didn't know. He didn't know anything-that was the point. He had to pursue this if he was going to gain any wisdom.

And what if this kind of invasive contact was just the nature of the Force? Was he supposed to become a hermit? Sure, the only Jedi he'd ever known had been, but that was because of the Jedi Purge. During the Republic the Jedi lived among all kinds of people, and must either not have been tortured by sexual Force visions, or not been troubled by them. Was this just another trial of the Jedi Path? His rank ignorance, the paucity of answers, and plain sexual frustration, left Luke wanting to tear out his hair.

Maybe there was no way to stop it but to simply go through it. It seemed to him, finally, that it didn't matter whether he tried to strengthen the connection or sever it. The result was the same: he ended up mired in the energy created by Leia and Han's bond, without the knowledge of the Force to make sense of it.

So on the day that Luke finally cracked, he hadn't been trying particularly hard to block his Force sense around Leia and Han. A certain fatalism had come over him. He had begun to think of this strange phenomenon as an uncomfortable Force side effect, and he wasn't prepared for the Force to up the ante on him as it did.

They were on the Falcon, safely in her hangar on H1. It was a rare lazy afternoon and they'd decided to hang around and do some chores on the ship that didn't require strict sobriety. Chewie was doing some re-wiring in the cockpit, and Luke was supposed to be searching for more grounded cabling in the subholds. This was a job that could easily have taken an hour, which must have been why Leia and Han had thought they had a modicum of privacy in the crew lounge.

The thing was, though, that as soon as he'd opened up the first subhold he realized he needed to ask Chewie something, so he came back to the lounge on his way to the cockpit not ten minutes after he'd left. All things considered, Luke later reflected bitterly, he was lucky they weren't making the bantha with two backs on the holochess table. But it was quite bad enough as it was. He popped his head through the hatch and saw Han and Leia. They were still sitting on the lounge, their voices low and uncomfortably tender. He couldn't make out the words, but it sounded like they were still discussing repairs, only now in these undeniable bedroom voices, while Leia wove Han's fingers between her own.

He stood there for less than a second before backing quickly into the passage again and pressing himself against the wall. While he tried to figure out whether to forge ahead or retreat, a low, masculine laugh drew him to look through the hatch again. That turned out to be a mistake.

Now, Leia was sitting astride his best friend, kissing him at leisure, for all the world as if there was no risk of interruption. The sight seared Luke from head to groin, and this time when he retreated to the passage, his sense of Han and Leia came with him. He couldn't see them now, but he didn't need to anymore. He didn't need to see them because now he _was_ them.

Leia made a small sound, as light as air, but as soon as he heard it Luke knew the feel of Han's tongue pressing against hers, how it felt when she rolled her hips against the rising in his pants. This was a power and an immediacy that Luke had never felt. He slammed his hands to his face, desperately wrenching himself away from Leia's consciousness, only to find himself in arguably deeper water. Because now he could feel the sweet curve of waist and hips, and soft hair on his lips and nose. Stars above, he could sense both of them now. To his equal horror and fascination, Luke could smell her-the same scent he'd always known, but endowed with an intimate knowledge of each component part: cleanser, lotion, scent; throat, armpits, breasts...He wrenched himself away from that litany only to return to the feeling of warm flesh in his hands, so pliant and strong. Gods, she was so small-with hands on her waist (but were they his or Han's?), it was easy to brush the sides of her breasts with his thumbs. Luke didn't know if the shiver that went through him came from himself, or Leia, or Han. It was getting hard to tell the difference, as he felt a painful arousal in his own body, threatening to swamp him.

For the first time, Luke truly realized the violation he was committing, and felt the appropriate level of horror at what he was doing, however unwittingly. He knew that he had to get away-now-far away, for as long as it took him to figure this out. As he stumbled down the Falcon's ramp, he only hoped he could get away before anything like this happened again, or something even worse. But gods, how much worse could it get?

 _That's it for this time, folks. Do you think Luke is right? It can't get any more hot/disturbing than this, surely! Tune in to find out :-). And happy reading: there's lots of great fit out there!_


	3. Chapter 3

PART III

Luke had been sure that he had to leave-get as far away from Leia and Han as humanly possible before he was completely consumed in their flame. But then something strange happened: nothing. Nothing happened for a while. Luke woke up one morning feeling finally free of this thing and thinking, _maybe everything will just blow over_. It had been a week and he hadn't been tormented by his Force connection to Leia and Han. He hadn't had an inkling of Force sense from them together, although he'd felt them both individually as usual. That indicated to him that he'd become blessedly immune to the pull of their sphere.

He walked, therefore, into the mess for lunch with Solo with a faint swagger. It had been hard, but by the sheer force of his will he'd beaten this, and he sat down opposite his friend confident in his emotional autonomy. And when he saw, and sensed, Solo's agitation, he only thought, _how can I help my friend Han? He looks like he needs a talk with a good friend_.

Aloud, he only said, "what's up? You look like you're ready to jump out of your skin."

"Have you been around Flight Command today? Is that supplies transport still supposed to get here?"

"I think so. They still have a hangar cleared for it. Why? Have you been missing your Balderian Crunchies that bad?"

"No-there's a medical shipment in there too." Han looked around them before continuing, "I'm overdue on my contra shot."

After a hopefully imperceptible blank moment, Luke came up with an "oh. Oh."

"Yeah. Leia's been refusing me for a week. That is one woman who does not want to get pregnant."

While Luke let that sink in, Wedge appeared, sat down next to him, and got a quick recap from Han. "Rough luck, man."

"I know! After months when she can't keep her hands off me, now she's avoiding me like a plague. She won't even be alone with me; I guess she's worried she'll be tempted or something. I guess this is just as hard for her as it is for me. Maybe harder!"

 _A week_. She'd been avoiding him for a week. So this respite wasn't due to his self control, but to a dumb accident (to Han letting his godsdamn birth control slip, of all things). And tonight they were planning to end the drought…

He needed to get off this ship, as soon as possible. Maybe there was an outgoing mission he could hop onto.

As he gathered himself to head over to Mission Control to see what was available, he became aware of the conversation once more. "...And I've been...you know...but you know it's not the same! There's nothing like that feeling, like you're sinking into hot-"

Wedge winced. "Alright, Solo, I don't need to hear any more details. This isn't the way I want to think about our Princess."

"Oh come on. Don't tell me all you guys don't have your little fantasies about-"

"Shut up! You're disgusting. Remember who you're talking about!" Luke stormed off, red in the face and embarrassed, while his friends looked on with chagrin.

Luke drank by himself, and he drank to get drunk. The man who had taught him to drink would be disappointed, he knew, but the same man was responsible for this liquor binge in the first place. Fucking Han. Swinging his dick all over the place all the time. Who wanted to see that? _Leia, apparently_. Stars, what a mess. This was turning him into a monster. He'd risked everything to bring Han back, knowing that he'd become Leia's lover, but facing that reality now, he actually caught himself remembering how simple it was back when Han was out of the picture.

He couldn't go on like this. He'd found a transport headed for the far rim that was taking an escort of fighters. It was the work of five minutes to pull some strings and switch places with one of the assigned pilots, and he was leaving with them in the morning. Now he just needed to get through the night. That's where the liquor came in: he planned to drink himself into oblivion. He wasn't even aware of putting the bottle down before he keeled over sideways on his bunk…

He dreamed that someone was chasing him, but then he heard laughter. He would've said it was Leia, but he'd never heard these shrieking giggles from her before. Now he surely heard her voice, though, calling, "stop it! Don't you dare!" And he would have been worried for her, but her words were laced with a giddy excitement. As if she wanted to get caught, but the more she dodged and ran, the more fun it would be. Luke was beginning to have a feeling about what "it" was. Leave it to him to get stinking drunk, only to dream about Leia. Well, some dim part of his consciousness reasoned, at least it was only a dream.

He felt Leia's back hit a wall, and the word "cornered" came to him in chorus. She struggled and Luke felt strong arms snaking around her, which she fought off with mixed success (Luke knew she could fight better than this, though). She faked left, then darted right to escape, but felt Han's hands, sure and large, around her waist. Now he knew why she played at fighting: for just this, Han's hands catching her and pulling her to him, his lips at her neck, while he pulled up her shirt and his palm found the bare skin of her stomach. Luke's gut went soft and quivery right along with Leia's, and the lucid part of his mind began to wonder if this really was just a dream. Funny, though: he couldn't seem to muster any of the horror he'd been feeling before. All of the pain he'd been feeling in recent weeks hadn't come from this connection with Leia and Han, but from his attempts to pull away from it. What would happen if he just gave in?

It wasn't like Luke was a virgin (at least, he was fairly sure he wasn't), but it had never felt anything like this. It was astonishing, this rhythmic embrace and release, something he hadn't even known the human body could do. This intense, searing heat-this was what living flesh felt like around you, and this was _Leia_. This was Leia pulling him into her, surrounding him with her heat and motion. She was soft as velvet one moment, then gripping him like a fist the next. The thought should have filled him with revulsion, shouldn't it? Even now, this deep in, some part of him searched for a sense of wrongness, but it wouldn't come.

He saw her eyes looking up, wide with a kind of wonder, although she must have felt Han inside her a hundred times by now. With only that thought, Luke's nimble mind darted from Han's feelings to Leia's, travelling with the thrust of his hips against hers. Instantly he felt the thumping of her heart, the arousal that made her breath come short, and that, that sensation that had no corollary in his own experience, pleasure in places he knew nothing about. He could only qualify it with the words that came floating from her mind: full, good, yes, more, in a litany that repeated until Luke wasn't sure if he (or Leia) was thinking it, saying it, or hearing it.

Luke felt nipples rasping against chest hair, or was it peaked nipples he felt against his chest? He was with neither Han nor Leia anymore: the distinction felt meaningless. He was the space between them, the junction of them. This was the source of the glowing sphere, he realized. The push and pull, the friction and slide between Leia and Han was what created the energy that been tempting Luke to dive into it. And he felt the ache in the chest that each of them felt, the heart's desperate attempt to leap from its own body into the other's. He wouldn't have called this pain love before this moment, but that's what it was.

He felt Leia's tears on her cheeks and on Han's neck, and while they might have confused him a day ago, it made perfect sense now: how could someone feel this pleasure, the fulfilment of this aching need, without shedding tears as she did, or straining and grunting with every thrust to reach the deepest part of the other, as Han did? This was lust, this was love, and as his friends reached climax and everything started glowing white-gold, Luke thought, of course-of course. This was everything. How could he have seen this from the outside without inevitably being drawn in completely? This was what made the planets spin, in whatever form it took-it was the Force of existence itself.

Luke came back to himself slowly. On his lips was the name that Leia repeated as she stroked from sweaty hair to shoulder to back. The horror which had taken a convenient break during this encounter returned with interest at hearing his own voice crooning, "Han...Han." He rushed to the 'fresher and splashed cold water over his face, and anywhere else that seemed to need it. It looked like he'd have a mess to clean up in his bunk.

The sick feeling in his stomach was beginning to overwhelm him when he heard distant laughter that he hadn't heard in much too long. But he could have done without it right now. "Ben?"

"Welcome to the life of a Jedi, my boy. I've been where you are, believe me. You've got a few more things to learn about the ways of the Force…" Luke slowly padded back to his bunk with Obi-Wan's chuckling echoing in his ears. Maybe, perhaps, with the voice of experience behind him, he could make this right. The question, though, was this: who had Ben ever experienced this with?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

So look, people: this story is just for fun. Not just in a legal, cover-my-ass-with-Lucasfilm kind of way. It's really just me fooling around. I've got my own Star Wars headcanon, and this is not a part of it. It's just a scenario I kept playing with in my head, and finally I figured maybe some of you might have fun with it-and get simultaneously turned on and squicked out-as well. So don't take it too seriously, and don't flame me if this is some sort of sacriledge in your eyes! And as always, Happy Reading. If this didn't float your boat, there's a ton of other stories out there that will.


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